


Bittersweet Sensation

by joannereads



Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: M/M, Rachel and Donna get mentioned but don't really appear, just a rambling idea I had
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-25
Updated: 2015-01-26
Packaged: 2018-03-08 22:57:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3226613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joannereads/pseuds/joannereads
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harvey wakes from a particularly unsettling dream. There is an aftermath. suck at summaries and don't want to give too much away. Has a mostly HEA though!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Awakening

**Author's Note:**

> It's late as I'm writing this, so have no idea how much sense it makes, but this idea has been bugging me so I had to start to get it down! Hope you enjoy it. Please let me know what you think, I can take criticism if it's not too mean spirited!

_His skin sang. Sweat trickled down his spine and his eyes bore into those below him. He watched as each wave of sensation washed over the face of the man beneath him. Each thrust drove them closer to the precipice of ecstasy. The air was hot, their mouths dry, their hearts on fire._

Harvey gasps awake and sits upright. The sheets tangle around him and he gasps frantically as he tries to free himself. Seconds follow before he stands, panting in the silence of his darkened bedroom. He bends at the waist, his hands rest on his thighs just above his knees, and he waits impatiently for his heart to settle and his breaths to quieten.

What the hell was that? Harvey slowly drags damp palms down his face and sinks down onto the bed. His mind is on fire. He presses the heels of his palms to his temples and tries to quell the uneasy sensations that hum there, just beneath the skin. It’s not like he hasn’t had dreams like it before, dreams of bodies and heat and sex, but they’ve never been so intense. He can still feel the soft skin of the man beneath him, the hot breaths on his neck.

Goosebumps rise all over his body, and Harvey rises shakily to his feet and pads to the bathroom. A shower, that’s what he needs, and a few minutes. Then everything will balance back out, equilibrium restored.

Except, he’s not sure that it can. Under the pounding jets of searing water, his body is still fighting with the sensations of the dream. His flesh tingles where the imagined fingers pressed themselves. His heart aches from the exertion of pushing endorphins around his system. And his cock is rigid and straining, desperate for contact.

But Harvey doesn’t want to give it. He doesn’t want to associate the face with beating off for pleasure. Somehow, it’s like there’ll be no turning back then. No way to shut _this_ off again. Harvey gulps in another shaky breath and tries to force his brain somewhere else—anywhere else—but nothing works.

Oh God! Harvey’s knees weaken again. Every sensation, every sound, every smell—they flood through his mind and overwhelm his good sense. If he thought he could sleep, he’d head back to bed just to feel the end. The release. It had been coming. He’d known the moment he awoke that he was close. Now, gritting his teeth and failing to drown out the memories, his hand finally finds its way to the rigid flesh that burns and pulses below his waist. Beneath the jets of water, his hand twists and tugs and pounds, and his longed for release builds rapidly. It hurts. He hurts. His desperation and need overwhelm everything except for the sensation of his palm on his flesh and the image of Mike—hot and writhing beneath him.

His release bursts forth, tearing itself from somewhere deep inside him. He gasps, eyes screw tightly shut and his teeth grip tightly to his lip. He bites back Mike’s name—finally able to wrest some minute control back from his domineering libido.

Several more minutes later, the water finally begins to run cooler and Harvey steps out of the safety of his shower to face himself in the mirror. Never before has he felt so lost. Not even as a teenager, when morning erections happened anytime, anyplace. He towels off and then throws the damp fabric into the corner of the bathroom and leans against the counter top, staring himself down in the mirror.

“It doesn’t mean anything,” he whispers, desperate for it to be true. “Just last night’s whiskey, a bad movie choice (Brokeback Mountain—what had he been thinking?) and far too much time with just one person.” As he stares himself down, he forces his mind to remember all the times he masturbated over Donna. Somehow, it isn’t the same. Sighing, he turns away from his chastising reflection, and heads for the kitchen.

Coffee is a distinctly bad idea, so he settles for a bottle of water from the fridge. He is naked, unable to bear the thought of anything on his skin. Hot. His skin is hot. He slides the glass door open and steps out onto the balcony. He is cautious. While the balcony is fairly private, he doesn’t like to take unnecessary risks. He stays near the door and sips his water, enjoying the sensation of the icy air on his flesh. It is January, and bitterly cold, but he feels only the barest of sensations.

Harvey is as straight as they come. Sure, in the past he flirted harmlessly with men if it was needed. A deal needed securing, he wanted a free drink, he was bored. Any one of a hundred or more reasons would stimulate him into witty repartee, banter, jokes and levity. He got what he wanted, however he wanted—he was goddamn Harvey R Specter.

It didn’t matter now, though. Mike has gotten under his skin somehow, and he needs him out again so that nothing will change. He can't lose what they have. At all costs, their friendship needs to remain intact.  Harvey laughs aloud at the preposterous idea that he is sexually attracted to Mike. Not just because they work together, or because he is a man, or because he is almost ten years younger, or because Donna would laugh at him—but because it's _Mike_. This isn't what they do.

Besides, Mike is straight too, right? There has been a soap-opera length line of women in his recent past. Sure, they all screwed him over in one way or another, but he seems to be settled with Rachel.

Except, she cheated on him. And now Harvey isn't particularly clear on exactly what is going on between them. It isn't him, he isn't the sort to stick his nose into the relationships of others. That is definitely more Donna’s field of expertise. Suddenly Harvey finds himself wishing he did know and he shakes his head desperately in a bid to recover some control. His toes are numb, which is new. Standing outside, he hasn’t really noticed just how cold he was getting. Shivers run through him and he turns back inside the safety of his cold, impersonal home. Just like him, everything neat, tidy, and perfectly expensive. Mike doesn't fit here, in this home or in his life. Not in an intimate way.

Harvey put the half full water bottle down on the dining table and begins to make his way through the shadowy hulks of his living room furniture towards his bed and, hopefully, a few more hours sleep. As he enters his bedroom, he sees the faint glow of his phone on the table beside his bed. The light fades and he rushes over quickly. No-one calls at this hour unless it is urgent.

_Are you awake?_

The short text message is from him—from Mike.  But it isn’t the only one. That had been sent twenty minutes ago, there is a more recent one above.

_Never mind. I’m coming over._

Oh shit! Harvey stands and turns around. He simply cannot have Mike here right now. He needs time to process, to build his walls and guard himself before he sees that face, hears that voice. Harvey’s cock twitches between his bare legs and it starts his heart pounding. He has absolutely no idea why Mike is coming right now—and god if he doesn’t feel his duplicitous cock throb a little at that phrasing.

He won’t let him in. Easy. He’ll just hide out in his room until Mike leaves. Then he’ll claim he slept through it, had no idea he was there. Sorry.

Harvey can hear the conversation in his mind, but it doesn't make him feel any better. What if Mike is hurt? Or if there is something seriously wrong? Mike is, technically, all alone in this world. His grandmother is gone, Rachel has betrayed him, Harvey made him send his best friend away. Who else does he have?

Harvey stands quickly and rummages for clean drawstring pants and a long sleeved t shirt. He needs to cover up now, needs to put some armour in place. Then he waits alone in the centre of his room. What else is there to do? He runs his fingers through his hair, straightening it after it has dried in the wintry breeze outside. His heart is racing. His blood hums. Goddamn it-he needs to calm down!

There is a soft knock at the front door. If Harvey had been sleeping, there is no way he would have heard it. He takes a step forward and then freezes in place. If he goes now it will be obvious that he was awake. Does he want to look obvious? As his mind races for the best option, Mike knocks again, only louder and more insistent. He has to answer the door before Mike wakes his neighbours. That's what he's telling himself and that's what he's sticking to.


	2. Behind the doors and windows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I edited the previous chapter to sort out the messy tenses. I really should write these things after a good nights sleep, rather than after midnight! Anyway, I had hoped to finish this tonight, but it seems to be a bit of a slow burner. Sorry, but an update is better than no update at all, right? Would love to know what you think!

Mike raps his knuckles on the door frame again. He is still utterly bemused about how he has ended up here, at Harvey's door, at two in the morning. All he knows is that he has to be here, now. It cannot wait a moment longer. He waits another beat or two and knows that, if Harvey doesn't answer soon, he is going to use his emergency key and let himself in anyway.

The bolts and locks on the reverse side of the door begin to slide and click and Mike's heart leaps into his throat where it pounds frantically. Harvey is here. He's awake He's letting Mike in.

"Are you okay?" comes a gruff voice from behind a safety chain. Harvey's deep brown eyes peer warily out from behind the relative safety of the chained door.

"Let me in, Harvey."

"No. It's late. If you are not dying and have no revelation about a case, then you need to go home so we can both sleep." Harvey waits a beat, then another. Mike says nothing, he just stares at him. Desperation oozes from every pore of Mike's being and Harvey shivers at the memory of Mike's skin beneath his fingers, at the taste of him in his mouth. His imagination is particularly good today, and Harvey feels his cock begin to demand attention.  _Shit._

"I can't sleep, Harvey. I need to talk to you. Please, just open the door." His voice is soft and it sends a pulse of wanton desire through Harvey. He wants to let Mike in, knows that he should, but his dick seems to have taken over all decision making and Harvey has learnt from past experience that it's a really, really bad idea to let it have any real say. Scottie is the perfect example of what happens when his cock is in charge.

"Go home, Mike." Harvey closes the door and then slumps back against it. He palms his dick through his pants. It wants more-craves more-but it doesn't matter. His brain is in control, just as it should be, and Mike is on his way home where he is out of reach.

"I know you're still there," Mike's voice murmurs from the corridor outside the condo's door. He shivers again, but this time it's the low tone of Mike's voice, laced with something Harvey is going to call passion-most certainly not desire. "Something happened to me tonight, something I can't explain. I need to talk to you Harvey. I-" Mike pauses, struggling to fit the rampaging thoughts in his mind around the confused stuttering of his heart and form coherent sentences. "I know you hate having me here, but you're different too. What happened tonight, Harvey? Why are you doing this?"

 _Because I have lost my mind!_ Harvey wants to shout back.  _Because the image of you naked and writhing beneath me has burned itself to the back of my eyelids, and the sound of you moaning my name fills my mind and I cannot, I will not, drive you away with my madness._ Harvey thinks these things but says nothing.

"I want you, Harvey," Mike barely whispers, and Harvey is certain that he feels Mike's breath on his neck despite the solid door that separates the two of them. He draws in a shaky breath and walks away from the door. This night is weird, and he isn't going to allow it to ruin everything. Yes, part of him wants to open the door and let Mike inside, to uncover his secrets and then to suck and lick and nip and love him until the sun rises. But he won't. Because this is all some crazy nightmare and he doesn't have to let it get the better of him.

He keeps walking through the condo until he reaches his bedroom. He pushes the door open and walks inside, shedding his clothes as he walks. His cock is thick and heavy, and a reminder of just how odd this whole night has been. He strokes it absent-mindedly a half-dozen times before slipping beneath the covers. He resolves to go out the following evening and find some young blonde, or brunette, to help distract him.

"Harvey?" Mike's voice echoes through his living space and into the quiet of Harvey's room. "I used my key, and I'm not sorry. I need to talk to you."

Mike's voices grows closer and closer and Harvey begins to back away from it. He is naked and each word Mike speaks feels like a caress on his bare skin.

"Harvey?" Mike pushes into the room and it suddenly feels to the older man as though the room shrinks with Mike's presence in it. He stands, stunned at the audacity of his associate-but also in admiration of his brazenness. No one else has ever faced his this way, challenged him, driven him to be more.

"Shit, Harvey. I'm sorry. I thought you'd be in bed." Mike doesn't turn away despite the lack of clothing on the older man.

"Why are you here?" Harvey manages to spit out. He works damned hard to convey arrogant frustration, but there is a quiver in his voice that betrays his uncertainty.

"I couldn't sleep. I woke up from . . . something. Shit, I can't explain it-" Mike's voice trails away and Harvey scoops his pants from the floor and covers up. it is a struggle but he manages to force his own gaze away from the younger man.

"Meet me in the kitchen. Make coffee," Harvey spits, and Mike spins on his heels.

 

Harvey waits alone in his room for several minutes and gathers himself. There is no way Mike didn't notice he was aroused. Maybe he could pass it off as a 'you just woke me up' event. Maybe. He runs his hands through his hair and thinks about things he knows will turn him off-namely Louis and financial law. Within a few minutes, Harvey can safely walk out of his room without a tent in his clothing. He is damned proud of himself, he thinks, as he strolls with affected nonchalance into his kitchen. 

He stops suddenly though, because Mike is leaning over the counter, his ass tight and pointed at Harvey. It's like an offering, an invitation, and Harvey gulps nervously. 

"Is the coffee ready, rookie?" he coughs out, and he is pleased to see Mike jump at the proximity of his boss.

"Sure, nearly." They wait a few moments more, before Mike pours two mugs of coffee and adds cream and sugar where it's needed. Harvey takes his and slinks off into his living room, curling up in the armchair as far away as he can get from the couch. He still has no shirt on, but it's nothing Mike hasn't seen before at the gym or the boxing club. They'd worked late a few times, and Harvey had ended up summoning Mike down to the club more than once to bring him something.

"What do you want?" Harvey asks quietly.

"What happened to you tonight?" Mike rebuffs. "I know something did because you aren't yourself."

Harvey sips from his cup and waits a second.

"Couldn't sleep. I've been awake most of the night, reading and the like. I was about to put a film on when I got your message. I figured you must be drunk. and it looks like I was right."

"One bottle of beer, Harvey. That's all I've had. I had a dream, Harvey." Mike laughs and shakes his head. "Sorry for the god awful cliche, but it's true. You were there. I felt you."

Harvey forces a smirk onto his face, but Mike finally moves away from the kitchen and settles on the coffee table, directly in front of Harvey. "Don't laugh at me, please. It's not fair." Mike's voice is painfully soft. "I know this might sound crazy, but I know you were actually there."

"I can't be in your dreams," Harvey says gently. "Nor you in mine. Perhaps someone spiked your beer?" He sips again, desperate to hold his tongue.

"I'm straight, Harvey."

"An odd confession," Harvey replies. Mike flushes with colour at his outburst but stares deep into Harvey's eyes.

"No, a necessary one. I have never, ever been attracted to a man before. But with you? You challenge me, Harvey, have since the minute we met. There are very few people who can make me feel slow or stupid, but you've come close."

"Mike-" Harvey tries, but Mike lifts a hand and stops him.

"I don't know what you think of me. I know I frustrate you, embarrass you, even insult you. But I don't know what you think of me. Tell me. I need to hear it."

Harvey looks down into his mug. He becomes aware of how dark it is, how neither of them thought to turn on the lights, and he feels safe. Beneath this blanket of night, he can maybe confess, maybe share. Can he finally let go of the walls and defences and be  _him_?


	3. Final destination (or the way things were just meant to be)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *sigh* If only they would actually get together. Never mind, we can dream can we not? Here's the ending I wanted to write for you yesterday and just couldn't.

Harvey releases a breath he was holding and places his mug on the coffee table.

"Mike, what made you come here?" he asks quietly. He knows that it's cruel, to turn his confession into a way to out Mike, but it's the only way he can proceed. The only way left for him to process.

"I dreamt about you," Mike says simply, though he speaks to the mug rather than to Harvey.

"What sort of dream? Were you worried about work? Was it a case?" Really, Harvey hates himself, but maybe Mike will forgive him at the end of this. But maybe, just maybe, Mike came here for the same reason that Harvey was trying to avoid him.

Mike coughs and smirks, an eyebrow raises very much in the way Harvey's do. He looks at Harvey then-dead straight in the eye, his eyes alight in the darkness. "No, Harvey. It wasn't work, or a case, or a bad thing at all. At least, it didn't seem like it at the time. But as you're being such a dick about it now, I'm not so sure. Perhaps I should just go get out of your hair. It was ridiculous anyway, coming here and hoping-"

Mike drags a hand around the back of his neck and put his mug down with the other-a swift, decisive movement. Harvey knows if he doesn't act in the next few seconds, this will all be lost to him. His heart pounds as his mind drags him back through the sensations of his dream. He is utterly unable to remember ever feeling so complete, so sated, so wanted.

"No, Mike. Don't go. Please, tell me about your dream."

"No way. Goddamn it Harvey, why d'you make things so difficult." Mike shoves himself upwards to his feet and turns away. "Tonight, when I woke up, you were all I could think about. There was nothing else. You are an all-consuming sort of a guy, aren't you. But I think I was wrong. Because you're also an utter bastard." Mike moves.

He is leaving.

" _Shit!_ Mike, stay." Harvey is out of his seat and in front of Mike before he even makes the conscious choice to move. "You can't leave now. Everything is . . . we're so . . . I need you here." There, he said it. He needs Mike.

"How? How do you need me?" Mike presses. He steps forward, into Harvey's space, and Harvey's breaths are suddenly shallow and shaky.

"What did you dream about?" Harvey pushes, his voice barely a whisper in the shadows.

 _"You,"_ Mike breathes. "It's always you."

_"What about me?"_

"Damn it Harvey!" Mike explodes, his frustration overwhelming all other feelings.

"I dreamt of you, too," Harvey continues, as though Mike hasn't just lost his cool. "I dreamt I got to run my fingers across your chest and through your hair." Mike gasps, all oxygen gone from the room suddenly. "I dreamt I got to press my mouth to your skin, to taste and lick you in ways I had never even imagined." Harvey places a hand on Mike's chest and feels the erratic beats beneath his palm. "This. I got to feel this."

"I'm straight, Harvey. I've never even felt the remotest desire to . . . with men-" Mike's monologue is silenced when Harvey presses the lightest of kisses to Mike's neck. It has always been the unknown that has excited Mike, and being like this with Harvey, that's the goddamn mystery prize.

"I'm straight too, Mike. Though it turns out that you break that mould." He presses his lips to Mike's neck once more, though his arms still remain firmly at his side. He's not in denial, he's not afraid, but he doesn't want to rush this. Somehow, this moment, this night, feels as though it will be the most important one of his life. He doesn't want to waste a second.

"I don't know how to do this, Harvey," Mike confesses. He isn't afraid either-but he doesn't want to embarrass himself.

Harvey pauses, drags himself away from Mike and forces himself to look the younger man in the eye. "Tell me what you want," he demands, his voice soft but dark.

"You. God, Harvey, all I want is you. You're in my head, in my thoughts. Tonight, you were  _in me_! I want that for real because it felt . . ." Mike's words die away as Harvey continues to fix him in a heated gaze.

"Complete," Harvey whispers, finishing MIke's thoughts just as he has a thousand times in the office, a hundred times as friends, and now their first time as _this_ \- whatever this is.

Mike steps closer; places a palm on Harvey's chest in an exact mirror image of just minutes before. "Take me, Harvey. I'm all yours."

Harvey will deny it later, but those half-dozen words set a fire in the pit of his stomach and shot to his already-half-hard cock in a way that no woman had ever managed before. He grabs Mike and drags him the four inches or so until their noses are pressed together. He looks deep into Mike's eyes for one, final moment before they can't undo what they are about to do, and sees utter wantonness. He wraps fingers around the back of Mike's neck and draws their mouths together for the first time. Mike moans breathily beneath him and it shivers right through him, his cock trembling with the sensation. He drags their bodies together and they fit exactly, as though each one was made for the other. Harvey echoes Mike's moan and their kisses become frantic, desperate, as though each one is feeding from the other and cannot possibly survive without. Their tongues lave and tangle, Mike revels in the faint taste of Harvey's scotch, lingering from the evening. He tries to pull Harvey closer, though the only closer he can possibly be is literally inside him. And right then Mike knows that he has to have that, has to have everything, and he has to have it now.

 

Mike begins to tug at Harvey's drawstring pants, but Harvey stops him, reluctantly dragging their mouths apart.

"No, bed first." 

Mike nods shakily and waits to be led away. Harvey pulls him in for another crushing kiss and all thoughts swim out of Mike's mind. Their bodies press against each other and Harvey can feel Mike's erection pressed against his thigh. His eyes slip back in his head for a moment as the sensation fills him-he never imagined that kissing alone could make him feel so broken. He grabs Mike's wrist and breaks the kiss, dragging them back towards his bedroom. They stumble breathlessly through the door and he kicks it closed behind him. Mike is already stripping off his jacket, his shirt soon to follow, but Harvey stops him.

"No. I want to. Let me find you."

Mike can't explain it, but those words break him. Harvey wants to take him apart piece by piece. Accepting this, Mike belatedly wonders if he'll ever fit back together properly, or whether he will be irrevocably changed by this. And then seconds later, he knows he doesn't want to be the same. 

Harvey trails hot, wet kisses down his neck and towards his collar bone, while Harvey's hands slip up the front of Mike's shirt and caress the firm skin he finds there. The pads of his fingers slip across a hardened nipple and the resulting tremor through Mike is overwhelming. Harvey lifts the shirt slowly, He has no idea what colour it is, whether it has long sleeves, nothing. All he knows is that it is keeping him from Mike. With the shirt gone, abandoned on the floor, Harvey is finally free to explore. He trails his tongue down from the little dip in Mike's collar bone, down to just above his navel. He tastes Mike completely-salt, the faint tang of deodorant, just Mike. He places a soft kiss over one nipple, and then sucks slightly, laving his tongue over the tight, hard skin. Mike moans deliciously and Harvey glows-he did that.

He falls to his knees then and he feels rather than hears Mike gasp at the image he creates, at his feet. He unbuckles the belt to Mike's jeans and slips them down slightly, revealing a little more skin. No underwear. Mike was in a rush? Or perhaps he doesn't wear pants ever, and that thought sends a wave of heat through Harvey. He slips the jeans down past Mike's ass, until his cock is finally free. He moans. Never before has something seemed so gorgeous. Cock has never turned him on, he's never been interested in watching porn, but this seems just right. He noses as the firm, throbbing flesh in front of him, breathing in Mike's scent. God! He wants him!

 

Slowly, savouring the salty taste, Harvey slips his mouth over the head of Mike's cock. He runs his tongue up and down the underside of Mike's cock, and the resultant tremor is all the motivation he needs to continue. Slipping further down, swallowing more of Mike, the room is filled with groans and moans that drive Harvey to slip his own hand into his pants and wrap his hot fingers around his needy cock. As he fists himself briefly to relieve a little pressure, he moans around the younger man's shaft, and Mike grips at his hair frantically.

"Shit, Harvey! That's-" He can't say any more as Harvey begins to suck and Mike is lost. His eyes wide open, he watches the gorgeous man at his feet as he falls apart. Harvey's carefully constructed persona, his armour and walls, all fall away as he succumbs to the pleasure of sucking on Mike's cock. Mike feels tears at his own eyes. He hadn't known, how could he? How could he have known that this was what was waiting for him, no-meant for him. Mike wallows in the heat and sensation of Harvey's mouth around his cock.

 

Harvey is overwhelmed. He is breathing heavily, has no idea if he's doing this right, but Mike seems to be receptive. Harvey glances up into Mike's face-the younger man's pupils are blown wide and his face flushed, his teeth grip his bottom lip tightly as he moans and whimpers. Harvey fists himself again before tugging Mike's jeans the rest of the way down. Pooled around his ankles, there is nothing left between Harvey's hands and Mike's skin. Harvey slips his hands up the back of Mike's thighs and grips his ass cheeks firmly, squeezing and kneading the firm flesh. He pauses a moment, allows Mike to fuck into his mouth, opening his throat to allow him all the room he needs. He knows how to do this, has explained it to more than one young, impressionable waitress in his time. But doing it? Totally different. Totally amazing.

A few more moments pass. Surely Mike is getting close. Harvey panics for a second-if Mike comes, will he swallow? Can he? Then he realises he would, without question. Because it's part of Mike and so it's important and valuable. He slips his fingers down the crack between Mike's cheeks and feels gooseflesh raise all over Mike. He pulls off slowly, savouring in every second of closeness.

"We don't have to do anything you're not ready for. We have all the time in the world, Mike." Harvey looks up at Mike and worries for the seconds it seems to take Mike to respond. Mike, meanwhile, is utterly overwhelmed at the idea that Harvey knows this isn't a one time thing.  _All the time in the world, Mike._

"I want you, Harvey. I need you. I need this. God, fuck me. Please!" Mike is aware he sounds desperate, frantic, but he doesn't give a shit. Harvey nods once and stands again, his knees grateful for the reprieve even is he hates being so far away from Mike. He lifts his shirt off and shoves his pants down quickly before pulling Mike down onto the bed. Their bodies are pressed against each other, their breaths mingling, their cocks pressed together between the heat of their hips, and Harvey kisses Mike with a hunger he has never felt before. He rolls his hips and their cocks rub together deliciously. Mike gasps and lowers his head into the crook of Harvey's neck.

" _I want you, now,_ " he whispers. Harvey reaches behind him into the dresser drawer. There is lube there, from a previous five-night stand, who just loved the stuff. He was never convinced before, but he is so grateful right now, here in this moment. He flips the lid and dribbles some of the oily substance onto his fingers. He rubs them together, warming the lube, before slipping them between Mike's cheeks and pressing one finger tip to the tight hole of his ass. He presses gently and Mike pushes back at the same time. Mike moans through clenched teeth as Harvey pushes a little way in, his finger pushing through the ring of muscle and into the tight, warm tunnel of Mike's ass. He almost comes undone, almost loses it utterly at the sensation of Mike's channel around his finger. He pauses a moment and breathes deeply, desperately fighting for control.

"More, Harvey. Please don't make me wait any longer." Mike's voice breaks, his breathing heavy and desperate against Harvey's throat. Harvey presses another finger alongside the first and twists and turns. Soon, so close to finally being joined. Harvey's cock throbs between them and Harvey grits his teeth. He will hold out, he will give Mike what he wants. A third finger now. Mike begins to thrust shallowly with his hips, causing friction between them that has Harvey's cock singing and Mike's pounding. Mike fucks himself of Harvey's fingers for just a little while longer, before Harvey pulls out altogether. With a press of his lips to Mike's, he guides Mike back onto the bed, and then uses a pillow to lift his hips a little higher. 

Harvey reaches for the dresser again, this time for a condom. As he lifts it from the drawer, Mike wraps his fingers around Harvey's wrist and holds it still.

"No. I can't. Please. Nothing between us. I trust you."

Harvey's breath leaves him in a shaky gasp. Mike's words fell from his mouth, but it sounded like they burst from his chest.

"Nothing," Harvey agrees. He slicks his cock with a little more lube, fisting himself gently before pressing the head of his cock to Mike's entrance. Mike gasps and fists at the sheets. 

"God, yes," he gasps, as Harvey presses a little further forward. Mike is so open, so ready, and Harvey presses into him more easily. As he fully seats himself, he moans wantonly. Mike smiles up at him and Harvey's breath is whipped away from him. That expression, this moment, just as he dreamed it. His eyes search Mike's and he sees recognition there as well. They have shared this moment before. Harvey thrusts a little and Mike's eyes flutter shut. His breaths become shallow, grunting with each thrust of Harvey's cock. Harvey is holding himself up, but now he feels the distance between them as cold as ice. He lowers himself down, pressing his chest to Mike's and trapping the younger man's cock between them. Their mouths find each other and their tongues mingle as their bodies writhe and pulse together. Harvey's mind absorbs every detail of the sensation, every sight and smell pressed into his memory. He is desperate to remember each and every second. Mike's mind is silent. For the first time in his life, it isn't retelling a story, or replaying a memory, or-more recently-proofing briefs. All he can think and feel and see and smell is Harvey. Harvey. Harvey. Harvey.

Mike is only aware that his internal chant has become a verbal outpouring when Harvey presses his lips to Mike's and he is silenced.

Then Harvey feels it. His arousal begins to pool together in the pit of his stomach and his balls tighten. 

"Mike. Come for me," he whispers into Mike's ear. Their bodies writhe around, their sweat lubricating around Mike's cock. "You feel so good, and I can't hold on much longer, Mike. Come for me.  _Come for me!"_ The final demand is the barest of whispers, but it shudders through Mike who loses himself in the dark command and he lets go. Finally, he lets go. His cock twitches between them and his hot seed spreads between them, sticky and incredible. The sensation of it sends Harvey over the edge and he thrusts deep inside Mike and holds still, totally consumed by the feeling of himself spilling out into the man beneath him. He wraps his arms tightly around Mike and pulls them over onto their side. He slips his hand between them and pulls it through the sticky mess on their abdomens. He brings his fingers to his lips and slowly, carefully, licks himself clean. Mike looks awed, and a little confused.

"It's you, Mike. I had to have all of you."

 

They lie there, together, hearts beating as one, as the sun slowly rises. As the faint red light fills the room, Mike watches Harvey doze. Never has he felt so wanted, so needed. There is fear beneath it all, fear that this will only be once. Just weeks before he had believed that he and Rachel were meant to be. That they would live their lives out together. But now?

"What are you thinking about?" Harvey asks softly.

"The future. My future. How things change so quickly."

"Worried?" Harvey asks perceptively.

"Always."

"Don't be. That was incredible. There is absolutely no way we are not doing that again, very soon if possible."

"And when you grow tired of me?" Mike asks, his throat catching around the words. Harvey pulls back a little and looks deep into Mike's blue eyes.

"Hear me," he says, his voice low and black. "I have never done that before, but that isn't the only thing I want from you, that I need from you. Somehow I've always known, always felt it. Between us, there is something I can't name. It goes beyond love, beyond devotion, it's more than passion and faithfulness. It's us, Mike. Have yo never felt that?"

"Every, single day I have known you," Mike admits. His words break into pieces around them as Harvey realises that, not only has Mike known this thing between them was so much more than friends for so much longer that he has, but that it has actually hurt him to carry that around on his own.

Harvey presses his mouth to Mike's again, his lips frantically trying to convey just how sorry he is that he was so stupid, so ignorant.

"Forever," he whispers against Mike's mouth. "I can't imagine anything more or better."

"Forever," Mike agrees finally, before pressing his lips back to Harvey's and feeling the world fall away from around them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There. Hope I did it justice and hope it was worth waiting for :)  
> God, I love these two!


End file.
